


the hearts you hold with your tiny hands

by springtine



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springtine/pseuds/springtine
Summary: An eight-year-old Sakuya turns up to the dorms with the Cinderella Clock—sixth of the Seven Mysteries of the Mankai Dorms. Mankai is determined to throw him a birthday party he won't forget, but how can they do it when the little boy keeps on breaking their hearts with simple words and wide-eyed expressions?No one has to carry that amount of emotional baggage alone and at such a young age. If all they can do is to remind him that thingswillget better, then they'll do it.
Relationships: MANKAI Company & Sakuma Sakuya
Comments: 13
Kudos: 78





	the hearts you hold with your tiny hands

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [ram's thread](https://twitter.com/itaruism/status/1368512315130220544?s=20)!
> 
> i began writing this in a haze and i'm glad i could post it in time! happiest birthday sakuya! i recommend that you listen to [my dictionary](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=01frCGLBqQI&ab_channel=%E5%A4%AA%E9%99%BD%E3%82%AA%E3%82%AA%E3%82%AB%E3%83%9F), sakuya's second solo, as you read this!
> 
>  **content warning:** implied child neglect

_ Food _

_ Decorations _

~~_ Cake _ ~~

~~_ Music _ ~~

~~_ Candles _ ~~

~~_ Drinks _ ~~

Izumi looks up from her clipboard to see Juza attaching the streamers to the wall, with Taichi holding up the colorful roll around his arm. Misumi was helping out Kazunari and Muku put up the neatly cut letters and numbers on the wall behind the TV. Citron and Tsuzuru were currently helping out Omi with the food, while Juza and Hisoka carefully decorated the cake on the other side of the counter. The others who were in the room set out cutlery or put finishing touches on their gifts. It was as loud and homey as ever, even with the last chill of winter making way for spring.

_ 6:09 PM. _

Sakuya would be home in a few minutes, and Izumi could see that there were still some things that could be ironed out quickly. She turns to Sakyo beside her. “Who’s going to turn off the lights?”

“I’ll do it.” He nods, then turns to Itaru who was lounging on the couch comfortably. “Don’t forget what you’re going to do, Chigasaki.”

Itaru doesn’t take his eyes off his phone’s screen, but he does raise the unopened party popper in one hand. “Got it, chief.”

The sky outside is already turning a beautiful purple-pink, filtering through the windows of the lounge. The daycare was about forty minutes from the dorms, and Izumi was glad they were rounding up the preparations now.

It’s been four years since the rebirth of the Mankai Company, and it was really making Izumi feel sentimental how her first actor, Sakuya, was twenty today. He’s blossomed from the sole actor on the stage that day to a magnificent young man. From the kid who didn’t feel any connection to his “family” to finding a family of his own. A family that let him grow from a simple weed in the cracks of a sidewalk to a spectacular cherry blossom tree that turned heads.

Izumi sniffles.

She’s never been one for too much sentimentality, but there was just something as you watch one of your charges grow up. After learning about his family situation, Izumi may have unconsciously begun caring for Sakuya the way a mother would. From his wide-eyed look at receiving a bento for the first time to the proud smile he showed as Izumi, Itaru, and Citron praised him for getting a perfect score on his quiz.

There’s a wad of tissues being pushed into her hand gently, and Izumi looks up. Sakyo isn’t facing her, but he grumbles, “C’mon, wipe those tears, Director. Leave the sentimental talk for later.”

Izumi takes the tissues, sniffling, “It’s just… he’s grown up so much, Sakyo. I feel like a mom watching her kids grow up.”

Sakyo manages a small chuckle, “I understand. It feels like it was just yesterday that Sakuma was on the stage alone.”

“Right?”

_ Knock-knock. _

Izumi quickly wipes the small tears that have welled up then stuffs the tissue in her pockets as she goes for the door. “Coming!”

Izumi blinks when she doesn’t see anyone outside at first.

“Miss?”

A tiny and soft voice from the ground makes her look down. Familiar red-pink eyes look up at her from under a bright yellow bucket hat with little tufts of red hair peeking out. The child wore a frayed red hoodie with another gray jacket on top of it, along with knee-length blue shorts and worn-out white shoes. A slightly worn black rasonderu bag rested on his back, and he carried a golden pocket watch in his small hands.

“This was on your porch. I wanna return it.”

Izumi took a deep breath and steels herself. Kneeling down to the kid’s height, she held out her hand with a smile. “Thank you, sweetie. Say, what’s your name?”

“I’m Sakuya Sakuma, seven-years-old!”

“I’m Izumi Tachibana. Thank you for returning the watch.” Sakuya nods, a bright smile on his face. “You’re welcome, Miss Izumi!”

There’s a bit of silence as Izumi tries not to lose her composure. Was this another part of the Seven Mysteries of Mankai? She hadn’t heard anything about a de-aging watch, but then again, Matsukawa hasn’t told them all of the mysteries.

“Miss Izumi? Do you know the way to the park?” The question snaps her out of her thoughts as he places the pocket watch in her hand. Sakuya’s hands are so cold when they brush against hers. “I’m lost and the signs are kinda hard to read...”

“Where are you from, Sakuya?”

“Yoko… hama?” The last part comes out in a question, with the boy’s eyebrows furrowed together.

“I’m afraid that’s a bit too far… would you like to stay here for the night?”

The boy shakes his head. “‘Tis okay, Miss Izumi. As long as I get back before it gets too dark, no one’s gonna notice I’m gone.”

_ Oh.  _

Izumi wants to cry right there —it doesn’t help that Sakuya’s tone is one of certainty, as if this was a normal thing already. It’s easy to forget that he didn’t have a stable support system with his cheery and spring-like demeanor. Izumi remembers Tsumugi coming to her, telling her how it hurt to hear that the first Christmas at Mankai was Sakuya’s first Christmas. It was heartbreaking, how a boy so full of love for everyone around him would have never gotten the love gives if he didn’t find Mankai.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Izumi smiles and stands up. She holds out her other hand. “It’s okay, I’ll call your guardians and tell them you can stay the night, okay?”

Sakuya blinks. “I can stay here?”

“Of course, sweetie. Come in, it’s getting colder.” Though he hesitates for a bit, he takes the hand that was offered to him. Sakuya’s hand is a bit warmer than the chilling cold earlier. Izumi doesn’t know where the child-sized slippers in the foyer came from, but she sees a familiar handwriting on it.  _ Ah, I’m sure Tsuzuru won’t mind. _

Sakyo’s leaning against the wall, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he had been listening in. Izumi gestures to him. “This is Mr. Sakyo, he’s a nice man that helps me around here.”

Sakuya bows, but doesn’t let go of Izumi’s hand. “I’m Sakuya Sakuma, seven-years-old! Nice to meet you, Mr. Sakyo.”

In what was uncharacteristic of the yakuza, he smiles gently. “Welcome to Mankai, Sakuya. Are you hungry?”

The kid can’t even lift his head from the bow when his stomach rumbles.

“What would you like to have?” Sakyo asks, tone gentle.

Sakuya straightens up with an embarrassed smile. “I’ll have anything. I’m not picky at all!”

“We have Napolitan tonight. That’s your favorite, right?” 

Sakuya’s eyes widen then he nods. “How do you know that, Mr. Sakyo?”

“I’m a magician. I can tell what everyone’s favorite food is.” Izumi’s grateful that Sakyo plays along. Other than the Spring Troupe, Matsukawa, and herself, Sakyo was the only one who was aware of Sakuya’s family situation. There was always something a bit softer and warmer with how Sakyo interacted with him. Did Sakyo see himself in Sakuya?

“Do you know Miss Izumi’s favorite food?”

“It’s curry.”

“Woah! You’re amazing, Mr. Sakyo!”

“All in a day’s work.” 

Sakuya jumps when the party poppers go off and he’s greeted by a chorus of voices as they enter the lounge.  _ “Happy Birthday, Sakuya!” _

The silence that follows after the loud greeting is expected. Everyone’s staring at the seven-year-old that holds Izumi’s hand. She’s sure that they’re as shocked as her, and even Izumi herself is still trying to process this. Izumi clears her throat when she feels his hand clutch hers tighter and when he starts fidgeting. “Tonight, we’ll be celebrating Sakuya’s birthday. Everyone, play nice, okay?”

She turns towards Sakyo. “Help him get cleaned up before eating, please.”

“Got it.”

Izumi holds her hand up in front of her, silencing everyone before they could even get a sound in. She raises the golden pocket watch that showed _ 6:15 _ through ornate clock hands. She sighs, “Matsukawa, what mystery is this?”

Matsukawa jumps at being addressed, scratching the back of his neck. He speaks after a while. “...That’s the Cinderella Clock, I think? I haven’t actually seen it. But the story goes like Cinderella with the magic ending at midnight!” 

So, it was limited. Izumi nods, a determined fire burning in her eyes. “Can we make this the happiest birthday he’ll get? We have around six hours before midnight, so let’s make this a birthday Sakuya won’t forget!”

“Sure!”

“Of course.”

“Got it!”

Cleaning up the alcohol, putting together a higher seat for Sakuya, and changing the cut out and icing from  _ 20 _ to  _ 7 _ was all done in the span of ten minutes. Sakyo finally came back with Sakuya, who held his hand. Sakyo had his bag on one arm, along with the bright hat on top of it.

Sakuya smiles at them, bright and sweet as ever. “Thank you for the party and everything! I don’t know how to pay it back, though…”

Kazunari approaches him with a grin, a colorful party hat in his hand. “Hey, don’t worry about it, little dude! It’s your special day, right? Just enjoy it!”

Kazunari gives him a pat once he puts the hat on Sakuya, then snaps a quick selfie. Sakuya looks a bit confused but smiles nonetheless. Muku nods from behind Kazunari. “He’s right. Do you want the cake or Napolitan first?”

Sakuya put a hand under his chin in thought. “Auntie always said desserts always go last… I’ll have the Napolitan first!”

“Okay then.”

“—But first.” That’s the only warning they get before Sakyo turns off the lights. A click of a lighter, then the soft orange glow of a small flame illuminating the Spring Troupe’s faces. Masumi’s holding the cake, and there’s a surprisingly soft smile on his face. Tsuzuru, Itaru, Citron, and Chikage are around him, each with happy expressions on their face. Sakuya gapes at the cake with wide eyes, the soft lighting of the flame showing his shocked eyes.

“Make a wish.”

“Any wish,” Citron adds, nodding.

Sakuya stared at the candle for a long while, like he hasn’t seen a birthday cake with a candle before. He closes his eyes. After a while, the candle goes out.

Izumi wonders what he wished for. The Sakuya that she knows wouldn’t wish for anything else other than to spend time with his found family. Would a younger Sakuya wish for anything else?

It was Misumi’s suggestion that got the Summer Troupe to do a pirate skit for Sakuya as he ate. He giggles as they played a condensed version of Captain Sky’s Pirates. They were a bunch of pirates looking for a treasure, but instead finding that Henry, Sky’s first mate, had already stolen the treasure long ago.

_ "...But captain was able to get a more precious treasure, right?" _ Henry giggles, ignoring Johnny and Francois’s fuming expressions. Sky raises an eyebrow.  _ “Huh?” _

_ "It's the bond that we created through this journey. It's the best treasure." _

Sky stomps with a scowl when it sinks in. _ “Don't try to say something touching! We don't have a ship anymore, you know!” _

Henry, who doesn’t look the least bit remorseful, laughs. Sakuya’s giggles turn into full-blown laughter, and for a moment, adorable laughter intertwines with Muku’s. Juza can’t help the twinge of pain when Sakuya suddenly covers his mouth. It was like he was scared of making noise. He lightly nudges the kid. “You can laugh, we don’t mind at all.”

“I can?” He asks, voice muffled with his hands.

“Of course.”

“I won’t bother the others?” What kind of relatives did he live with? Weren’t children laughing supposed to be a nice sign? Why would they ever stop him from laughing? It didn’t make sense to Juza at all.

“Not at all. It’s okay to be moved by acting. It just means that you’re in the world they’re acting out.”

Sakuya stares at him with wonder, before grinning. “I see! It’s like the pirate play from back then! Acting’s so cool, isn’t it, Mr. Juza?”

Juza nods, a small smile spreading on his face. “It is. It’s one of my favorite things too.”

“Me too! What’s your other favorites, Mr. Juza? I like Napolitan and the cherry blossoms!”

“Anything sweet.” Juza gestures to the cake in front of him. Luckily, Omi had some remaining buttercream in the fridge that was enough to cover up the  _ 20  _ on the cake. “Wanna have a slice?”

“Yes, please!”

“Did you enjoy that, Sakuya?” Tenma asks, taking the seat beside him. He nods fervently. “You’re all so cool! It’s like you guys were really on the sea!”

“Pirates are so cool!” Misumi agress, a bright grin on his face. 

“I didn’t know what was happening, but it was a fun practice!” Kumon admits, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.

“You’re good, Mini Hyobro.” Yuki hums, a glass of juice in one hand. “A bit more polish and it’s like you’re part of the original cast.”

“Eh? Original cast?”

Kumon nods. “Mhm! I wasn’t here when they first performed Captain Sky, but Tenma gave me the role of Paul’s sidekick if we’re gonna play it again!”

“Woah!” Sakuya’s eyes shine with childish wonder. “I didn’t know you could do that! Is it hard?”

Tenma shakes his head. “Nah, it’ll get easier the more you practice. Don’t worry, it’s easy when you have friends helping you.”

“I haven’t made any friends yet because I just moved… but I wanna make new friends!” Sakuya pokes at his slice of cake. Despite his attempt to keep his voice low, it still breaks their heart when they hear him mutter, “...I wanna meet my old friends again…”

“Hey, hey, Sakkun!” Kazunari pipes in, a big smile on his face. “Do you wanna play tag with us?” 

“Sure?” He tilts his head. “But it’s already nighttime, won’t Miss Izumi get angry with the noise?”

Kumon shakes his head, gesturing to the yard outside. “Not at all! Plus, we have a pretty big yard!”

“I’ll tell the Director.” Juza offers. “You can go play now.”

“You’re the best, Juza!”

“You’re it, Mr. Tenma!” There’s a light hit on his arm before Tenma could turn around. Sakuya was already running away from him. 

“Hey, come back here!”

“Catch me!” He giggles. 

Misumi cheers from the tree branch, “Sakuya’s so fast!”

“The Hack’s so slow,” Yuki huffs a laugh, leaping away from Tenma’s attempt to tap his shoulder. 

“Oi, stop running!”

“But this is tag, Tente—”

“You’re it!”

Kazunari blinks. “Huh? OMG, I didn’t even see that!”

Sakuya pauses from running when he arrives at the lawn table with a pitcher of water and several paper cups on it, catching his breath. Kazunari was trying to catch Muku, and it was like Muku was blurring as he ran through the courtyard. He tries to tiptoe to get himself a glass of water, before Yuki sweeps in. “I’ll do it.”

Handing the paper cup to the seven-year-old, Sakuya smiles at him. “Thank you, Mr. Yuki. You’re really nice.”

“No problem, I just don’t wanna hear Shi— the old man nag about a mess again.”

Sakuya laughs, “It’s really fun here! But…”

Yuki turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow when he trails off, instead of studying his manicured nails. What comes next wrings his heart, and reminds him of himself from before. It hurts to hear it from such a young child, especially when Yuki knows how stupidly kind he is.

“Why is everyone so nice to me, Mr. Yuki?”

Sakuya squawks when Yuki lightly ruffles his hair. “It’s because you’re a good boy. Anyone who treats you in a mean way is ugly.” 

“But—”

“Listen, Energy Concentrate. You don’t deserve to be treated awfully. If they say you’re too nice or too happy, don’t listen to them. They can’t see that the optimism you have is rare nowadays. It  _ will _ get better someday.” Flattening down the soft hair, Yuki gives Sakuya a headpat. “Keep being you, okay? Don’t let anyone take that part away from you.”

The shocked expression on his face gives away to a bright smile, a familiarly bright one. “I’ll remember that! I promise to be me!”

“Keep that spirit.” Yuki affirms. “Now let’s go inside, I think Ma has a new batch of pizza out of the oven.”

Omi feels a tug on his pant leg as he’s slicing the pizza into sixteenths. He smiles at Sakuya who’s looking up at him. “What is it, Sakuya?”

“I’ll help with carrying that!”

Omi blinks. “But it’s your birthday, you should enjoy playing with the others.”

Sakuya tilts his head, as if he doesn’t understand. “But I wanna pay you guys back for being so nice to me…”

Ah, Omi understands that. Sakuya’s been always first to jump to help others, very eagerly too. But he would feel bad for making him work, especially when he was so small right now. Though Izumi said that they should celebrate a party Sakuya would enjoy, there was still the worry present. Omi crouches to give the small seven-year-old (who didn’t even reach his waist) a head pat.

“Alright then, you can help Tasuku carry the next batch of food to the table.”

“Okay!”

“Mr. Tasuku?” 

Tasuku pauses from bickering with Itaru over staged sword fights to see Sakuya tugging at his pant leg. Tasuku awkwardly smiles at him, while Itaru gives the kid an easy smile. Tsumugi smiles gently at him. “Hello, Sakuya. Happy birthday again! How old are you now?”

Sakuya pouts in concentration, counting off the digits on his fingers. He presents them eight tiny fingers raised up. “I’m eight today. I kinda forgot that today was my birthday…”

Itaru chuckles. “Hey, don’t worry about it. In the future, you’ll always get a birthday party and people to remind you that it’s your birthday.”

“I will?”

“Mhm.” Tsumugi nods. “You just have to wait another—”

He’s cut off by Itaru tapping his shoulder furiously. When he turns to look at Itaru, the salaryman has a finger over his lips while shaking his head. Tsumugi raises an eyebrow, not getting it. Itaru pulls Tsumugi away, while pushing Tasuku to talk with Sakuya.

“What is it, Sakum— I mean, Sakuya?”

“Mr. Omi told me I can help you carry the food!”

Huh? Didn’t kids like being served like royals on their birthday, not doing any chores? But Tasuku supposed that Sakuya’s hardworking attitude must’ve started when he was really young (even then, it still didn’t make sense to Tasuku, his gut says so).

“Okay then.” He crouches down with an arm out. “Get on.”

Sakuya blinks. “Huh?”

“Kids like high places, don’t they?” Tasuku muses that nothing has changed when he sees confusion and hesitation flash through Sakuya’s red-pink eyes. So, he’s always had his heart on his sleeve even back then.

Tasuku lifts him slowly and gently as he could, but even then, he feels Sakuya’s small hands tighten at his collar as he’s raised up. The kid’s burying his face into the crook of Tasuku’s neck, and he feels some of the soft red hair tickle his nose a bit. He makes sure Sakuya is comfortably perched on his arm before going to the kitchen. Tasuku notes that he’s surprisingly light.

When he finally gets to the kitchen, Sakuya is finally looking around the room with amazement and a small sound of wonder escapes his lips. “Woah! This is amazing, Mr. Tasuku!”

Tasuku can’t help the laugh. “I’m sure it is.”

“This is the first time that I’ve been this high, Mr. Tasuku!”

An innocent statement of wonder, yet it still manages to make Tasuku’s chest curl uncomfortably. He remembers being lifted by his dad and Fuyuki for most of his childhood. Did Sakuya never have the chance to be lifted up like this? Just… how long has he been living without his parents?

Tasuku pushes down the feeling of discomfort as he listens to Sakuya ramble about how amazing it was to be this high, and how to grow as tall as Tasuku and Omi. He makes a note to ask how much Sakuya has grown the next time he can.

Banri and Citron were trying to get the last of the sushi with chopsticks, to the point that Tasuku saw that their hands were practically blurs. Taichi gapes at both of them from beside Banri, while Azami pointedly ignores both of them, in favor of the spring rolls. Sakuya waves at them. “Mr. Citron, Mr. Banri, Mr. Taichi, Mr. Azami!”

With the split moment of distraction, Citron’s able to snatch the sushi from Banri and put it in his mouth with a satisfied expression. Banri blinks and squints at the plate where the sushi was. “Ah man, that was pretty quick of you, Citron.”

“I’m sorry Banri, but I cannot let the last ebi nigiri escape me!”

“Sure,” Banri laughs. He turns to Tasuku, who puts the tray on the table. Tasuku places Sakuya on the seat with several books placed on it. He gives the kid a pat on the shoulder before leaving.

“Wow, Sakkun finally broke the endless sushi dash!”

“You have a name for it?” Azami raises an eyebrow.

Sakuya blinks. “You’re welcome…?”

“Here’s a tiny gift for today’s prince!” Citron does a few hand gestures and takes out a cherry blossom branch from somewhere. “Happy birthday again, Sakuya!”

Sakuya takes it with a bright smile, holding it gently. “Thank you Mr. Citron!”

“Hey, how are ya enjoyin’ the party, kiddo?” Banri asks, picking off one of the fresh pizza slices. The four cheese pizza creates strings as it’s pulled away.

“It’s super fun! This is the first time I’ve gotten a birthday this big!”

_ “First birthday this big” _ … Taichi can’t help but feel sad at hearing that. Sakuya’s been always so bright and sociable, how could this be his first big birthday? Then he remembers how he didn’t see any relatives or parents at his highschool graduation. Nor did he talk about them, like, at all. ...Wait, did that mean he didn’t have parents anymore? The realization makes his blood run cold.

Azami huffs a laugh. “Happy birthday, kid. I guess the old man isn’t that much of a penny pincher on special occasions… still gets on my nerves when he waters down the shampoo.”

Sakuya tilts his head. “But isn’t shampoo supposed to be really watery?”

There’s a faint look of shock that crosses Azami’s eyes at that. Azami shakes his head. “No. It’s supposed to be like liquid soap, but thicker.”

As Citron, Banri, and Azami are talking to Sakuya about their day, Taichi pats his jacket’s pockets. He lights up when he feels what he’s looking for. Through easy and practiced folds, there’s an elegant and carefully made complex paper crane in his palm in a few minutes. The beautiful pink crane glimmers with golden foil.

“Sakkun!” Sakuya pauses from wiping his hands on tissue, looking up at Taichi. Knowing he didn’t have as dexterous hands like Chikage and Citron, he just presents the paper crane to the eight-year-old with a grin.

“Happy birthday from Taichi-niisan!”

Sakuya gasps as he sees the gift, eyes wide. “This… This is so cool! Thank you so much!”

Taichi moves forward to give the paper crane to him, since it looked like he was overextending himself as he reached across the table. He’s reminded a little of himself at that. He was taller than Sakuya, if he was remembering correctly. It makes him feel a little older, remembering how Sakuya was talking to him the other day about how he had just gotten a growth spurt.

Sakuya cradles the paper crane in his head, looking at it with shining eyes of amazement. He leans back in his seat, and accidentally knocks a drinking glass that was at his elbow.

The sound of glass shattering makes the chatter and sounds in the lounge stop. In a knee-jerk reaction, Sakuya jumps down from his seat, and Taichi would be lying if he didn’t say the kid’s face looked pale. Taichi doesn’t have to lean over the table to see that the eight-year-old was already picking up the shards, muttering tiny apologies. It breaks Taichi’s heart even more when he also hears a tiny sniffle.

Taichi blinks, and he sees Tsumugi crouching down beside Sakuya in the next moment. Tsumugi gently says, “I’ll pick that up for you, Sakuya.”

Sakuya sniffles, “B-But I broke it! I have to p-pick it up before M-Miss Izumi gets mad— Ow!”

Tsumugi, in a rare show of strength, was carrying Sakuya away from the broken glass the next moment. He pats the teary Sakuya’s back. “Now, now. Children aren’t supposed to touch broken glass. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I b-broke it though…” Sakuya sniffles, and Taichi even spots him trembling a bit. It’s heartbreaking. “I have to p-pick it up.”

While Tsumugi helps clean up the bleeding cut at the sink, Masumi arrives with a small broom and dustpan. He swiftly cleans it up, even fixing the chair, cherry blossom branch, and paper crane. He glances at Citron, and through some sort of telepathy, both of them nod.

When Sakuya comes back, he’s gently carried by Guy to the couch. His eyes look a little red at the edges, and his cheeks and nose are redder than earlier. There’s several variations of animal bandaids on his tiny fingers. Though silent, Guy sits beside him, bringing out a pack of tissues from one of his pockets. “Here.”

It takes a while, but after Guy brings him a few glasses of juice, he looks better now. Hisoka joined them sometime ago, even offering Pen Pen to Sakuya. Chikage had put on a musical on the TV, and the three of them were watching it silently. It’s surprising how Hisoka hasn’t fallen asleep yet, even if Homare was pretty sure from his posture that he was close to passing out.

Homare slips a Hisoka a bag of marshmallows as he stands behind the couch, making his sleepy roommate sit up straighter. He hands Sakuya a neatly wrapped present, making the boy jolt up in surprise and turn to him.

“Happy birthday, my dear Sakuya. You’re welcome to open it now.”

“Oh! Thank you, Mr. Homare!”

It surprises Homare how gently and carefully he removes the wrapping paper. Homare expected children to be brash with gifts, tearing the wrapper apart to see what was inside. Yet Sakuya opened the gift with such gentleness, as if to preserve every last bit of the paper he could. Like he was avoiding being wasteful as much as he could.

A regular-sized journal seemed a little too large for his tiny hands. It had a cream colored hardcover, an embroidery of cherry blossoms on the cover, along with a magnetic clasp that kept it shut. The pages were colored off white, some of them lined and some just plain paper. There was also a mechanical pencil that matched the cover.

“Woah, this looks really nice! I’ve never had a notebook this nice!” 

Homare laughs, “You’ve been always the type to record your thoughts down, are you not?”

“Yeah!” Sakuya runs his fingers across the embroidery, a contemplative expression on his face. “But I don’t wanna ruin it with my handwriting. Hibari-sensei says it looks bad.”

“Nonsense!” Homare shakes his head with a frown. “The art of handwriting takes a long time to learn; you cannot expect a child to have good handwriting immediately. Rest assured, it  _ will _ get better.”

“How do you know that, Mr. Homare?” The way Sakuya asks is hopefully naive, and Homare’s reminded that it was one of his charms. 

Huffing a laugh, Homare smiles, “Because I have seen how much you have improved, my dear. Just learn things at your own pace.”

Homare now understands Itaru's occasional statements of needing sunglasses when looking at Sakuya when the child smiles at him so sweetly. “Okay! I’ll remember that!”

Homare nods. “Why don’t you try writing something in the journal? Perhaps a list of things you would like to do?”

“Okay.” Sakuya opens the journal then squints at the poem written on the first page. “I can’t read this, Mr. Homare.”

“Worry not, you’ll appreciate it when you grow up.”

Homare leans over the couch when he doesn’t spot Sakuya writing at all. “Is there something wrong?”

Sakuya shakes his head. “I can’t think of anything.”

“Why is that?” Guy asks, genuinely curious. Children were curious and eager to discover new things, right?

“Because being with all of you is the happiest that I’ve ever been!”

Even Hisoka stills at hearing that. It’s such a simple answer, yet it hurts to hear that from him. Sakuya was the embodiment of spring… it just didn’t seem real. But his tone is as straightforward and genuine, no pretenses or lies. A child’s honesty was a double sided blade.

Hisoka hums, voice surprisingly leveled. Though his voice is steady, Homare could feel that he’s as bothered as he was. “Why don’t you put what you haven’t experienced yet?”

“What I haven’t experienced yet?” Sakuya echoes, tilting his head.

“Yeah.” Hisoka hands him a marshmallow, to which he takes it. He munches on it thoughtfully. Sakuya begins writing in the journal on his lap, scribbling messy and unaligned hiragana and kanji. He lists down a few before messily crossing them all out, writing a few more, then crossing them out as well.

~~_ going to a theter with some one _ ~~

~~_ eat at restworant _ ~~

~~_ sleepover _ ~~

~~_ bed time story _ ~~

~~_ buy a toy _ ~~

~~_ hug _ ~~

_ someone to tell me i did a good job! _

Homare can’t help the tears that begin to well up in the edges of his eyes. It doesn’t help that the other things Sakuya has written are normal things that children get. Such messy scrawls and simple words have wrung up his heart painfully. But he wasn’t done yet.

Sakuya next draws a crude stickman, with a taller stickman with its hand on the first stickman’s head. He writes his name on top of the smaller stickman’s head, then a text bubble from the taller stickman with a  _ good job, sakuya!  _ written in it.

_ just like that!  _ was written on the bottom of the two stickmen.

Homare noted the lack of any features on the stickman and that particular detail makes the tears spill. But he quickly wipes his eyes with his sleeve before they could fall. He spots Izumi and Azuma at the edge of his sight, both looking at him with worry. He throws them a smile and mouths  _ later _ . Izumi tilts her head, while Azuma nods in understanding.

Sakuya finishes the list then lets the three of them read it. There’s a certain yet almost invisible tension in Guy’s jaw as he reads through it. Hisoka doesn’t pick up the bag of marshmallows when he finishes reading it.

“Do you want a hug, Sakuya?” Hisoka asks, voice gentle and not commanding. Despite the fact that Sakuya had written it, there’s still a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. But with a small smile from Hisoka who raised his arms, not pushing it, Sakuya finally takes up the offer. Sakuya looks so small in Hisoka’s arms, yet Homare knows he’ll be safe with him. Hisoka wraps his arms around the child.

After easing himself from Hisoka, he turns towards Guy next. The former royal servant smiles gently as he lets the eight-year-old hug him first. He wraps his arms around him next. Homare would be lying if he wasn’t going to admit that they had looked like father and son. It also didn’t escape Homare’s eyes how Guy is a lot less stiff receiving and giving affection now.

When Sakuya pulls away, there’s a cute smile on his face. “Both Mr. Hisoka and Mr. Guy have really good hugs!”

“Is that so?” Azuma has walked over earlier, a few coloring books and tins in his arms. “Well, I’ve been teaching him.”

“Does that mean Mr. Azuma is the best hugger?”

“Definitely better than Arisu,” Hisoka mutters, making Homare pout.

“Hisoka!”

“Would you like to color with me, Saku?” Azuma offers. Sakuya looks at the books at his arms, eyes widening.

“Are those coloring books?”

Azuma nods, putting the pile down on the low table. “I thought you’d be interested in them. Feel free to pick what you want, alright?”

To Azuma’s surprise, Sakuya picks out an aquarium-themed one. Azuma doesn’t expect his heart to be pained when he hears how much Sakuya wanted to go to last year’s school field trip to the aquarium, one that he couldn’t go to because his guardians refused to pay for it. 

Sakuya colors the backdrop lightly, but on the fishes and other aquatic lifeforms, it’s much brighter. As expected of a child, some of the colors escape the printed lines. Despite the messiness, it adds a childish charm to his coloring.

Homare compliments him on the vibrancy of his coloring, gaining a wide-eyed expression. Sakuya giggles, “Thank you! It’s really fun coloring with nice pencils! I still have mine from… when I was five!”

“Your guardians have not bought you new ones?” Guy asks. Sakuya shakes his head.

“I heard Uncle Masahiro saying how hard it was to pay the bills, so I didn’t ask them to buy me anything when I arrived.”

Azuma gets reminded a bit of himself. Considering he had to move pretty often, he’s gotten used to things lasting a long time. Just so it would be easier on his next set of relatives. Not everyone had the money or time to attend to a kid that wasn’t even theirs. He could understand it, but he felt sad at learning that Sakuya had learned to stop asking for things at such a young age. Maybe that was why he’s never stopped wearing his favored grey hoodie, even if it’s been four years or possibly even more (there was even a frayed end that Yuki snipped off the other day).

At 10 pm, Sakuya begins yawning, rubbing at his eyes. Tsuzuru gently shakes him from where Sakuya leaned comfortably on him. Tsuzuru had sat down to watch the musical on the TV, tired from helping Omi in the kitchen. It didn’t take too long for the eight-year-old to gravitate to his side. It was like they were a pair of brothers from how easily Sakuya leans against Tsuzuru (Ah, he was like that with Hajime, too.).

“Are you already sleepy?”

“Mmmh yeah,” he yawns. Sakuya closes the coloring book and puts the pencil into the tin, before leaning back on the couch with another yawn.

Azuma chuckles, “Time for the Spring sleepover, I suppose?”

Tsuzuru nods. “We planned to sleep on the stage tonight but seeing… that, we decided for Sakuya and Citron’s room instead.”

“Sleepover? Me and Mr. Citron’s room?” Sakuya questions, curiosity rousing him from sleepiness.

“Yeah. It’s a tradition for the Spring Troupe to have sleepovers.”

“What do you do in sleepovers? I’ve never been to one.” Tsuzuru can’t help the tinge of pain that comes from being a big brother. Sleepovers were always a part of childhood, but he supposed sharing a room with his seven younger brothers was always a sleepover. Has Sakuya never had a sleepover before Mankai?

“We usually talk about life and stuff, sometimes we even recite scripts… that is if Masumi hasn’t fallen asleep yet. Oh, and you’re roommates with Citron.”

Sakuya takes a while to process, and he tugs at Tsuzuru’s jacket, as if trying to make sure that this was real. “So I don’t have to sleep alone in the dark anymore?”

Tsuzuru has never had to sleep in silence or in darkness, even as Tadoru and Meguru left home. It was always so noisy yet homey at the Minagi household. Tsuzuru can’t imagine a life where he’s sleeping in total silence or total darkness. Tsuzuru swallows the lump in his throat as he answers, pulling the eight-year-old closer to him. “Not anymore. You’re not alone anymore, Sakuya.”

Room 101 is a bit too cramped for Chikage, but he doesn’t complain. Citron’s holding Sakuya’s hand as they walk at the front of their group. Sakyo had made everyone go to their rooms at 10:15, reminding everyone that it was still a weekday. Majority of them had classes or work the next morning.

Chikage hadn’t expected their de-agefied leader to be so tiny, if he was going to be honest. Or maybe he was getting used to Sakuya finally reaching his shoulder. He’s grown taller, but Chikage doesn’t know how much. 

The dorms looked like a color bomb had exploded in it, streamers and festive decorations covering the hallways, plants, and even the railings on the second floor. It wasn’t gaudy, color-coordinated even.

They stop in front of Room 101. Like the showman that he is (even in pajamas), Citron opens the door with a flourish. Aside from the usual decorations and trinkets in the room, there was also a colorful assortment of party decorations. Six futons were laid out on the floor in their usual circle. Citron held out an arm, gesturing to the room. 

“Welcome to your room, Sakuya!”

It doesn’t escape Chikage’s eyes how Sakuya seemed hesitant to step in. Citron tilts his head, noticing too. “Is there something wrong?”

“Do I really have a room that’s all mine?” Sakuya asks, in a tiny voice that told them he didn’t believe it. 

Masumi put a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, come on.”

A light (metaphorical) push gets Sakuya to step inside the room. Despite the others settling in comfortably and in a familiar manner, the eight-year-old still stands at the door awkwardly. In a surprising show of affection, Masumi gently leads Sakuya to the futon beside him.

“Is it really okay for me to join in?” Sakuya asks as Masumi assists him with putting the rather heavy futon over the eight-year-old. 

Masumi hums, “Of course, the Spring Troupe isn’t complete without Sakuya.”

The soft look in his eyes disappears when he glares at the rest of the group who stares at him with a disgustingly knowing look.  _ “What.” _

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Citron says, putting a hand in front of his lips. Despite that, he can’t hide the smiling lilt in his voice, nor the smile that reached his eyes. “It’s just that Masumi looked like a big brother!”

Itaru chuckles, “Right? It’s oddly fitting on Masumi.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make sure you won’t find your controllers.”

“It’s like that time with Tangerine,” Chikage pipes in, unaffected by the venomous glare Masumi sends him. Itaru huffs a laugh, detaching the controllers from his Switch and handing the red joystick to Sakuya beside him. He begins setting up the game and propping up the screen.

Sakuya stares at the thing given to him. “What… is this?”

“Play a round of Kario Mart with me.” Itaru smiles. “I’ll teach you but I’ll go easy on you.”

Though Sakyo has long declared lights off, the Spring Troupe plays and talks into the night. After three rounds of Kario Mart with Sakuya winning two, Citron has coerced the rest of them into a storytelling session. A storytelling game where they had to weave a story using only two sentences, then the next person would use the last word to start off their part.

Sakuya’s eyes, despite the hint of sleepiness in them, shone with wonder and attentiveness as he listened to a tale of two boys leaving their hometown to pave a way for themselves on their own hard earned merit. It’s Itaru who somehow gets a dragon into the story. Of course, Chikage followed up on that, making it even more chaotic with a mysterious man in a balloon offering to be their getaway.

Despite the mess it had become, Sakuya had seemed to enjoy it, even laughing. It seemed like even if he was a kid, he still enjoyed theater as much as he did normally.

“Big brothers?”

It was Tsuzuru who insisted for Sakuya to call them big brothers, in an attempt for their de-agefied leader to be more comfortable with them. Sakuya had taken to it as easily as a duck to water, and he even expressed how happy he felt when he got to call them big brothers. Most of them are on the verge of sleep already when Sakuya talks.

Masumi groggily hums, “Nhmm… what is it?”

“...It’s my first time to have a birthday party and a sleepover. I wanna have more sleepovers like this!”

“Soon,” Tsuzuru assures. “Don’t worry about the future, okay?”

“We’ll be waiting for you.” Chikage adds. In an almost familiar manner, Sakuya turns over in his futon, facing all of them. He grins at all of them.

“I can’t thank you guys enough.”

“Miss Izumi?” 

Izumi jumps when the tiny voice comes up behind her. She almost drops the Cinderella Clock. Sakuya’s in his red hoodie and shorts, with hair mildly tousled. He has a bright smile on his face.

“What is it, Sakuya?”

“I wanna thank you for everything… everyone was so nice, the food tasted amazing, I’ve never felt this happy, Miss Izumi!”

Izumi can’t help but remember what Homare told her earlier. It was such a simple wish yet he hadn’t gotten it for  _ years _ . Though it probably wouldn’t account for anything because of time traveling rules (blame Itaru for that time travel sci-fi movie he took her to the other day), she’d grant it now.

Izumi crouches to be on eye-level with Sakuya, who only stared at her curiously. Hoping her hand didn’t tremble, she rests her hand on Sakuya’s head. Her eyes are already watery, but she covers it up with a large yet genuine smile. “Good job, Sakuya!”

There’s a tiny gasp, but Izumi solders on. “You did so great earlier, didn’t you?”

Sakuya’s face crumples up, and despite the fact that she wasn’t going to let go, he still raised his small hands to keep her hand on his head. They’re so warm now, unlike when he had arrived.

“I…” He takes a deep breath that sounded more like a sniffle. “I did?”

“You’re a very very good boy, Sakuya.”

“T-Then… if I…” his voice cracks with such heavy emotions no one should have to shoulder alone. “...I keep being a good boy, will mom and dad come home again?”

He sounded so,  _ so _ hopeful. Sakuya meets her eyes, and there must have been something in her eyes that makes his expression break. Crocodile tears begin flowing from his eyes and he throws himself towards Izumi. His hands come to clutch at the back of her shirt in much desperation. There’s already a wet spot on her shoulder. 

“Oh, Sakuya.” At this point, Izumi can’t help the tears that slide down her face anymore. They fall on Sakuya’s soft hair. Izumi holds him tight. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“I miss them so bad,” he sniffs. “I just wanna… I wanna see them again, ‘zumi.”

“I know you do.” She strokes his hair gently. “Oh, I know.”

The clock hands pointed at  _ 11:57 _ catches the moonlight.

Izumi wakes up with a spectacular headache the next morning. Her eyes felt incredibly puffy and her nose was stuffed so badly. She wobbles a bit as she stands from her bed. She feels a bit better after blowing her nose, yet her throat still feels like parchment.

The lounge and kitchen are filled with the faint sound of humming when Izumi enters. Her face felt less puffy after splashing some water on it. 

Sakuya turns to her with a bright smile, already halfway through the dishes. He wasn’t the eight-year-old who clung to her tightly last night, but he was now the twenty-year-old who had just reached 170 cm last week. “Good morning, Director!”

The crying face of the eight-year-old Sakuya is still so vivid in her mind that she simply averts her gaze and mutters a greeting. Izumi takes a seat at the table with a glass of water. Sakuya continues humming as he finishes the dishes, clicking the coffee maker into action at the same tempo.

Sakuya doesn’t say anything as he prepares both of their drinks.

Izumi lets the warmth of the mug seep into her hands when she receives the mug. The scent of coffee wakes up her mind, allowing her to collect her thoughts before talking. “Did you enjoy your birthday last night, Sakuya?”

Sakuya shrugs, sheepishly laughing, “...If I was going to be honest… I don’t remember much.”

“Huh?”

He traces the indents on the table, eyebrows furrowed together in an effort to remember. “I remember walking around Yokohama… it looked like how it was when I lived there when I was eight. It was weird since everything was exactly like back then. There was even the old stationery shop near the station!”

The Cinderella Clock didn’t de-age him then, but it just made him swap places with his younger self.

“My phone was dead so I couldn’t call anyone. I walked around the parks, food stalls, and the pier, too. ...Oh! Do you know that the view from the ferris wheel in Yokohama lets you see the entire city, Director? It’s so cool… I wanna bring the others there someday too!”

Izumi tentatively sips her coffee. ...She needed to know if last night was only a dream, even if the book stack on one of the chairs says otherwise. “Say, Sakuya… did you ever have a dream with a birthday party?”

Sakuya pauses, and looks at Izumi. Confusion is visible in his eyes and for a while, Izumi is convinced that everything last night was a dream. A flicker of recognition appears in his red-pink eyes and he lets out a tiny gasp.

“...Now that you mention it, I kinda remember a dream like that,” Sakuya mutters. “I don’t remember much from it, but it was the most fun I’ve had since my parents passed. It was really fun and the food was like from a restaurant!”

Izumi was not going to think about the implications of time traveling. She smiles into her coffee. “Maybe it was really fate for you to end up here, huh?”

“Yeah, definitely fate! I’m happy to be here, Director!”

Sakuya jumps from his seat when Izumi bursts into tears. “D-Director?!”

Sakuya gets the tissue box from the counter, offering it to Izumi. But when Izumi's hand comes up to pat his head instead of the tissue box, he blinks. Huh…? He hasn’t felt this in a while. Though her voice is wobbly, Izumi sounds prouder than ever, “Good job, Sakuya!”

It's a familiarly pleasant sensation, one that digs up the forgotten memories from his mind.

Like a treasure box being unearthed and unlocked, pleasant memories from before rise up. Though he doesn't remember his parents' faces anymore, it didn't matter. He’ll always hold the sensation of headpats, being told that he did a good job, and whatever bits and pieces he could remember of them close to his heart. He does have his parents’ recipe for Napolitan and soup written somewhere, right? Maybe he’d pay a visit to his hometown sometime… maybe his relatives would have some pictures of his parents.

But wait… why did it feel like he had seen this expression on Izumi way back, even before Mankai?

Before he could completely grasp the thought, it floats away like a balloon.

Sakuya settles for a small smile. “Thank you for always supporting me, Director. I promise to keep on blooming for you and the rest of the company!”

**Author's Note:**

> several things:
> 
>   * izumi being unphased by literally anything (it's hereditary)
>   * spring troupe's speciality being fairytales and cinderella is one famous fairytale
>   * references to my dictionary
>   * copious amounts of parallelism!! ;) let me know what parallelisms/callbacks you spotted!
> 

> 
> it was kinda hard to insert everyone and make them have significant screentime with sakuya, but i hope i did them all justice! i'm happy how this turned out hehe, especially since i finished this in 3 sittings too! i'm happy :] i'm not the type to lovemail, so think of this as my bday gift for sakkun!
> 
> (also help how did it get to 8k idk what happened :crying:)
> 
> let me know what you think about this!!


End file.
